Night Walk

In the stillness past midnight, the moon keeps me company.

I can't quiet remember when my evening walks began. Perhaps five years ago. Perhaps longer.

When the day is done and the night falls - when my work has been satisfactorily called to a close, and when I've fulfilled my duties and responsibilities to the world - my romance with the night begins.

Whether it's a brightly moonlit night, a breezy balmy night, a heavy airless night, a foggy ethereal night, or a snow-clad white night, I walk in silence and solitude.

There is an indescribable joy in it - a quiet knowing, belonging. A sense of returning home to my soul. Simply walking in the night, when the rest of the world has quietened down - people wrapped in slumber, cars tucked away, and the streets breathing in their own stillness.

Lately, my walk is no longer an evening affair but a deep night ritual, often past midnight - sometimes even at 1 or 2 a.m. when my day stretches long into the late hours.

When the world is deep asleep, I am out there interacting with the sky and the space. It's a respite my soul yearns for and returns to every night. A quiet finale, a reflective wrap. And the night... or the morning.. begins again.

Tonight, I paused and lifted my eyes. The moon, veiled in soft clouds, glowed like a secret the sky was keeping. I captured it - not keep it, but to remember the feeling of standing beneath it, bathed in its quiet light. Oftentimes, the moon is my only quiet witness.